Just a little something that's been on my laptop for a while now. I thought a lot before posting this, don't ask me why. It's kind of different from my usual writing, I think.

Ash and Misty are 23, Brock's 27, and Delia's 43.

Disclaimer: For obvious reasons I don't own Pokémon or its characters. The only thing I own is my imagination.

Update: My beta, anjumstar, has edited this one-shot. I totally recommend her: she's fast and really efficient. :)

Enjoy!

Enough

Misty and Ash glared at each other in silence after a rather fretful storm - also known as one of their daily arguments - looking as if they were ready to physically attack each other. Only this time was different, at least it seemed so. A terribly tense atmosphere was surrounding them, engulfing both in a prisoner state.

Misty was a mess. What was once a beautiful baby blue, one-shoulder cocktail dress was now tainted with red wine; her perfectly combed hair, tied to the side with little curls cascading down and cupping her cheek, was ruined to say the least; and so was her make-up - black trails of mascara were down on her wet cheeks as more tears fell, all out of her will. One heel of her white sandals was broken, a handful of beads were missing from her also white purse. Her small bolero of the same color was probably the only thing that was intact. To top it all, she was livid, and worse, she was hurt.

Ash was not better, as a matter of fact. The tension on him was palpable. His tux was looking as torn as Misty's outfit - what was left of it at least, which was his trousers and his white shirt; and as incredible as it may seem, his hair was even more unruly and messy than usual. His hands clenched shut by the sides of his legs, and his furrowed eyebrows at the top of a hard face gave away how anxious the trainer actually was.

All the eyes on the room were on them, which meant Brock's, Delia's and Pikachu's. They had tried, a lot of times, to soothe the argument between the two, but it did no good - they had just been ignored. It would be stupid to try and convince them to lower their voices or stop the argument itself - they had realized by now. The three merely stared, apprehensively, waiting and hoping that they would stop soon.

The room was as dark as the night, because no one had had the resolve to turn on the lights during the argument. Ironically, the night itself was as pacific as it could be, full of stars, no wandering cloud visible, a soft summer breeze passing by once in a while, immune to the growing argument between the two best friends.

"Guys, let's just calm down, you don't really mean it…" Brock tried once more, taking a step in their direction. "Let's all go to bed and talk about it tomorrow, when we're all calmer."

The breeder seemed to be the only one of the three whose clothes were not torn or ripped apart, except for his untied orange tie, which had been undone due to how hot it was.

"Pikapi… Pikachupi…" Pikachu half-pleaded, dividing his attention between the pair standing rigidly in front of him. He didn't like to watch his friends like that, especially when it was this serious.

Misty inhaled and her breath came out shakily. "I'm leaving," she announced firmly, gathering her belongings, and Ash couldn't help but to feel a nudge in his stomach, like someone had incited him to do something to stop her.

"But Misty, dear, it's so late already. Why don't you stay here for the night?" Delia kindly asked, worry clearly displayed in her motherly voice.

Misty looked at the elder of them, her eyes slightly softening for a moment, before Ash interrupted and said, "I'm sure there's someone who wouldn't mind taking her home tonight," adding a frown of disgust in the end.

A loud cracking sound was heard, followed by gasps and widened eyes, including Ash's for a moment. He slowly touched the place where her hand had slapped him - it was hot, and he bet it was red as well. Ash was ready to shout back at her when his eyes met hers. She was crying harder, clearly not able to hold the tears or control them anymore. Apart from that, she looked hurt, a lot in fact. His heart was so contracted that now it seemed someone was grabbing and squeezing it until he ran out of blood.

"You idiot…" she whispered in between sniffs, slowly shaking her head in unbelief. "You colossal idiot…"

Was he? He might be, because he had never seen her like that. Guilt washed over him like rain, and he felt like he could kneel down in front of her and beg for forgiveness, or go implore Celebi to go back in time and never offend her like he had that night.

"I hate you!" she shouted, loud and clear, then tossing her sandals to the side and running out of the door.

Ash was glued to the floor, his brain still slowly absorbing what she had just said, his heart small, drowning in a pool of misery. Arceus, what had he done? It took all of him to not start crying like a baby, but when Pikachu climbed to his shoulder, licking his cheek, he knew that his efforts of keeping the tears away had not been enough.

Delia gazed at Ash, hands on her hips, silently scolding him for his behavior, but her face gave away that she was worried about her son as well. He knew his mother loved Misty as her daughter, so he was not surprised. I think this time I'm more worried than her, he mused.

"Don't wait for me," he said, grabbing his black blazer.

Ash held Pikachu up and gave him to Brock, both men locking eyes for a moment in a mute understanding. For his part, he was dead if he didn't make it up for Brock's adoptive sister. Brock would take care of Pikachu and calm his mother. The trainer then turned on his heels and ran after Misty, hoping she was still nearby and that there were no cabs around, though the last part was highly improbable.

When he got out, there was no sign of her, but something told him to take the left, and so he did. Previous events of that night danced in his mind, and he couldn't stop them no matter how much he wanted to:

Misty grecefully walking down the stairs of the Cerulean Gym, a shy blush on her cheeks. His heart swelling at the sight, his brain slowly swooning. Brock nudging him on the arm. Pikachu running up to her and jumping into her open arms. Her smile.

Ash had invited both of his friends to a party he had to attend to, all because of his newly acquired title of Champion of the Indigo League. Misty had complained at first, saying she didn't like high heels, but then she gave in to his irresistible puppy-dog eyes. Brock had promptly accepted, murmuring something like 'time to meet some girls', and making a dreamy face.

As far as Ash was concerned, he hadn't really given it much thought, but his mother insisted he should wear a tux, saying Brock would too, and emphasizing that now he was famous, so he needed to be careful about what clothes to wear. He had let her have her way, it couldn't hurt, right?

Ash continued to run with all his might, his eyes searching for any red or blue, any sparkle that would give her presence away. Once more, images invaded his mind, this time of the party itself. It was madness, he couldn't focus like this.

Brock disappearing with Pikachu on his head, muttering something about Joy in a pink dress, and that Pikachu would help him. Misty getting too many side glances from men. How her hand had grasped his forearm when she was about to fall, all because of those 'damned high heels'. How her eyes had enthusiastically explored the place around her, saying everything looked beautiful and modern. Her laughter.

Ash shook his head, trying to gain control again. He knew how he felt about her, he had known for a while actually. Despite what people thought of him when it came to feelings and emotions, he wasn't that ignorant anymore. He could blame her for that.

Something glittered on the pavement in front of him. His heart beat grew faster; certainly it had to be her. Ash narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher what it was. He got closer, and discovered that sadly it wasn't her.

Stopping and bending down to catch it, he trapped the small object between his fingers. The raven haired male was positive it was some sort of an earring, and he was also sure Misty had taken it and its twin to the party.

"You better be her earring," he told the piece of jewelry in a warning voice, then shoving it inside his trousers' right pocket carefully.

Ash looked around, noticing nothing but trees, bushes, flowers, the small path he was currently in, a house similar to his here and there, and Professor Oak's laboratory ahead of him. Spotting nothing out of the ordinary, he continued on his search for her, walking this time, so he wouldn't miss anything.

Misty in the balcony, admiring the stars above, a glass of apple juice in her hands. Someone grabbing him, asking where the bathroom was. A couple of men around her. She was laughing. A funny sensation in his stomach, surely not caused by alcohol, even if just because he hadn't had it at all.

Snap. Out. Of. It! He ordered his mind, with little success. Where could she be?

He stopped. Professor Oak's laboratory was right in front of him, and he briefly wondered if she could be there. He declined the idea for the simple fact that the lights were all turned off, so it didn't make sense for him to waste any of his time there.

Admitting that he had probably chosen the wrong way, Ash turned his back to the lab and started walking back, at the same time trying to regain some composure and control over his emotions.

"Ash! The party's great, thank you for inviting me!" she had said, smiling wildly, running to catch up with him at the bar. "Are you having fun?"

"I bet you are having lots of fun with those guys over there." He had muttered flatly, not eyeing her.

"Yes, they are really nice. Wanna join us?" Her expression hadn't been that happy anymore, but the same glimpse of enthusiasm had still been there.

"I don't think so."

She had frowned back then, probably not understanding why he was acting like that, and she had sat down at the chair next to his, her gaze never leaving his face. The music had probably been too loud, and the guests had probably been screaming to understand each other. Alcohol had started paying off its effects, and some people had already left.

She had asked what was wrong, to which he had responded 'nothing'. Being her usual stubborn self, she had tried again and again, getting angrier everytime the reply was the same - which meant, every time. After asking about ten times, the sentence had changed to 'What the hell is wrong with you?'

"You", he had said. Of all the things to say, of all the times to say it and all the circumstances, he had chosen that precise moment to blow everything up. Now he wished he knew better, especially when it came to tell your best friend and not-so-secret-love that your problem is that specific person.

Definitely not the smartest answer ever.

If Misty were a Gyarados, he was sure she would have hyper beamed him in the arse for such thing. He had never been any more glad in his life to find out that she wasn't any kind of dragon or dangerous pokémon. That is, until now, because he would rather have that to the look he had seen in her eyes - the look of someone whose heart had been broken.

Ash swallowed bitterly and guiltily, his pace reducing to slow, prudent steps. If that had been the only issue, he was sure they would work it out anyhow, they always did. But the things he had said and implied were way more serious than that, and he wondered if they would ever be the same again. And all because of this stupid, irrational and unrealistic feeling that apparently walked hand in hand with love - jealousy.

Oh, yes, he had been jealous. He still was. Not admitting it would only lead him to what had happened that night - which meant, hurting Misty. But he just couldn't help it when those guys were talking and drooling over his Misty. And when she looked so happy and carefree. And when she looked so damn gorgeous in that outfit, pratically making it impossible for him to hold in and lock all his feelings inside his chest because he couldn't… they couldn't…

Ash stopped after hearing a faint sound coming from his right. For a couple of seconds he thought it was some wild pokémon, and instinctively preprared himself to run after it, before reality hit him again and he stopped on his tracks, even before he had the chance to take a step towards it.

The sound came again, and now he was almost convinced it wasn't some pokémon, it sounded vaguely familiar. Then, he heard a sniff, followed by a groan and some incoherent hissed words. His heart caught up in his throat. It had to be her.

Silently praying to Mew that it was, in fact, Misty, Ash let his ears lead him along the way through the bushes. It was too dark for the trainer to see where he stepped, and that earned him some rips on his trousers, as well as some scratches on his arms and face.

Shortly after, Ash found himself in a small clearing, a dense row of trees and other plants surrounding it completelly. It was amusing to see that the grass in the middle seemed to be recently cut. He briefly wondered if there was anyone living near there that had had the idea to do such thing.

All those thoughts evaporated in a thin cloud once his eyes laid themselves on the back of her head though, and time seemed to stand still for a moment. That moment was used for Ash to panic over what to do, because he didn't have a clue as to what to say or do to make it up for her.

Misty, who seemed to be oblivious to all this inner agitation of Ash's, had chosen that moment to slightly turn her head in his direction. Her eyebrows rose up to her forehead in surprise when she spotted him, not very far away from her, looking as if he was about to start pacing around anxiously.

Their eyes met then, and silence reigned once more.

Misty felt weak just by staring at him; he had the power to dissolve her anger away, though she would never admit such thing. She stood up abruptly, causing Ash to slightly flinch. The gym leader stomped her way to him defiantly, only stopping when her face was a mere inch from his. There was a look of annoyance in her semblance that didn't go unnoticed by the raven haired trainer, but neither of her went anyway, so it wasn't all that new to him.

"Misty? Can we talk?" he asked in a whisper, desperately trying to focus on the issue at hand, rather than her.

"Oh, you want to talk? Let's talk then!" she spat sarcastically, throwing her purse to the grass and putting her hands on her hips. "Do you want me to start?"

"Whatever's best for you," he mumbled, still fighting the urge to let his heart command him instead of his very much unwilling brain.

"Good," she said, her voice firm and cold as an iceberg.

After what seemed like an hour of insults, complaints, yelling, telling off, and just frankly being Misty, the redhead was left panting, her intense gaze never leaving Ash's. Even if he was now taller than her, Ash wouldn't have argued with the fact that she seemed to tower over him as she let everything out. He, on the other hand, had his attention partially divided between her speaking and her presence. He could smell her breath, and he wasn't sure as to how much more he could take without committing any foolish action. It wasn't like he hadn't heard her. He had, and surprinsingly, for once in their lives, they shared the mutual opinion that she was right.

Now was a different story, because she had started to rattle on, her speech becoming more and more confused, fleeting, and as messed up as she was.

"Who do you think you are to call me that, you… you Wanna-Be! You think that just because you won that damn title you have the right to imply I'm a… a... someone with no dignity! That I would ever do such thing as… as going out with all of them in the way you suggested! They were just being nice! And… and for once in my life, I'm grateful to make-up and high heels, because at least someone noticed me… and said I was pretty! And-"

"I think you're beautiful everyday…" he confessed dumbly, regretting it a second later, when her eyes had grown wider and her lips had parted in a confused oval form of an 'o'.

The desire to undo that figure with his own lips played in the back of his mind. He shook his head vigorously. If she knew of those thoughts, she would surely kill him right there. But seeing as she didn't seem capable of producing any sound or movement, he was sure she wouldn't mind. And he had managed to render her speechless, which was some kind of accomplishment itself.

Beautiful.

Not pretty, not hot.

Just beautiful.

Those were the thoughts of the redhead before she was forced to 'wake up' by Ash shaking her shoulders lightly. She felt too selfconscious then, when she finally noticed how close to each other they were standing. She backed up, tripping when the back of her foot met with a very conveniently placed rock. Ash had grabbed her by the waist then, preventing her fall, and pulled her to him with more force than necessary, causing their bodies to awkwardly smash together and their legs to tangle. As amusing as their figures tangled together were, somehow they had managed to stand still.

Ash felt tingly everywhere, and having her so close was seriously damaging his thinking. His cheeks and ears were red and hot, his lips in a thin, hesitant curve, eyes open wide, staring back into hers. Misty was having similar feelings to his, all the while trying to find a way to detach herself from him without either of them falling due to their uncomfortable position, but with no success. Their hair mixing under the moonlight, the fireflies around them; it could be a very romantic moment hadn't they been holding onto each other to not fall.

"So, um… are you still mad at me?" Ash asked tentatively. He heard a groan as response and sighed. Of course she was.

"You're still paying me for my bike, my dress, since you so kindly tainted it with wine tonight, and my purse, because I wasn't allowed to bring my mallet, so I had to hit you with it instead. Oh, and you're buying me a new pair of high heels!" she spat suddenly against his chest. Misty found out that eyeing him didn't help to keep her anger on high levels.

"Waaaah? But you're the one who broke them!" he protested.

"That's because I was running after you!" Misty retorted.

"And what happens if I don't pay?"

"I'll haunt you for the rest of your days!" Misty replied with a mischievous smirk, clearly thinking that that would make him pay.

"Good," Ash said after a while. "Good, then I'll never pay you."

"Oh, you immature idiot!" she spat, not so angrily, because she understood what that meant, and smacked his chest with her right fist.

That was not a good idea.

They soon found that out when Ash lost his balance and fell backwards. In an attempt to not fall he had held on to Misty, who was not strong enough to hold them both, and also fell on top of the current Champion, a mess of arms and legs entwining them both in a tight uncomfortable hug.

"Argh! Ash!" she whined, desperately trying to untangle herself from him.

Said trainer groaned something under his breath and produced an indignated sound when Misty tackled his left ankle.

"You're hurting me!" he moaned.

The redhead rolled her eyes at him, though he didn't see it, then retorting dramatically, "A thousand pardons, Your Highness!"

"The Champion-Highness doesn't forgive you," Ash teased with a chuckle, then contracted his legs and prevented her from moving hers away.

"Ash!" she complained once more, "I'm trying to move from you!"

"I don't want you to," he whispered sincerely.

Misty stopped struggling as her face turned to a color close to her hair, and when her eyes met his, she felt her strength fading away from her body.

"Is it okay?" he asked after a while. "Is it enough, Mist?"

If Misty understood what he meant, she didn't say; the redhead simply removed her cerulean eyes from his and let her forehead rest on his chest as if she was trying to hide from something. It was comfortable, just as expected, and she felt at ease listening to his heart beat, his chest slightly rising up and down as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. She was too distracted by that to notice her own hair being caressed by the young trainer's left hand.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," Ash murmured, taking the gym leader by surprise, since she was already used to the silence. "I know you have your reasons, but it's getting more and more difficult day by day."

"Ash…" Misty mumbled feebly, trying to prevent him from going any further. She grasped his shirt, digging her head deeper, and clenching her eyes shut.

"I can't, Mist," he said softly. "I know I promised, but I just can't stand it anymore!" At this he lifted them from the ground to a sitting position. Misty was facing away, not daring looking Ash in the eye. "I was jealous - I still am! All the attention you were giving them… Do you know how much I'd give just for you to do any of that for me; because of me?"

He was making it difficult for her to put a straight face, and she felt herself gradually giving in, much to her dismay. Why did he have to be so persistent? Not only him, why did it have to be so persistent, so determined to make her bow to an illusion, a fantasy in which they both could be anything beyond friends. Honestly, she couldn't say she hadn't tried, and tried, and tried to keep him away. Misty had made him agree with her that with him travelling and her at the gym, a relationship beyond 'just friends' was not possible.

"I know you don't want me to say it, but if I don't, I might explode," Ash continued.

"Ash, don't," she warned, finally turning her head to his, somewhat trying to sound more secure than she actually was.

She failed.

"I love you," he breathed out, and it sounded just perfect coming out from his mouth. "So, so very much…"

Misty was left speechless, mouth agape, expressive eyes staring back into Ash's, her inner debate completely silenced. The only thing still working inside of her might have been her heart, pounding hard against her ribs, appearing as if getting out of her was the only way. If she was ever going to say something, we will never know, because the following moment, Ash's lips were on hers, tenderly enveloping both of them in a much wanted and belated kiss.

Soon Misty's resistance was lying on the same ground as them, shattered and unceremoniously put aside, as her body naturally reciprocated Ash's gesture and her small hands grasped and pulled the collar of his shirt towards her.

Ash planted a trail of soft, luscious kisses along her jaw, slowly approaching her left ear, in which he whispered her name, earning some shivers from the gym leader, then came back to her lips, where he stayed longer, tasting and savoring them unhurriedly, while his grasp around her waist never loosened and his hand never left her hair.

Misty was trembling beneath him, all the sensations new to her, irresistible and addicting; she never thought kisses could feel like this, never knew his lips could be so soft and gentle, but at the same time igniting. And though she considered it wrong, she couldn't help but to drift closer to Ash, until she was pratically straddling on his lap.

Ash's brain was, by now, turned to mush. The faint gasps, sighs and moans she produced once in a while were not helping, and neither was the fact that she was all over him, their chests as glued to one another as their lips. He wouldn't have noticed her hands removing his blazer, or his own hair being clutched, if it depended on his life. But he did notice, because her kisses turned more heated and demanding. He could have smiled; after all, he had just won an important battle against her stubborn mind.

But Ash was not taking it any further. He slowly stopped, giving her one last long kiss, one that blew off any chances of them getting into some intimate things, and obliging her to stop as well. She produced a small groan of annoyance and he had to suppress some chuckles. The new Champion rubbed his forehead against hers and slowly brushed his lips against it lovingly, then exhaled contentedly.

Misty gradually opened her eyes to meet his and she found them warm and aglow with so much adoration just for her. And his content smile… her heart raced a little more just by seeing it. Her face, already flustered, reddened up a bit more, precisely when she thought it impossible. It was all him, all his fault. Nonetheless, he had stopped. She frowned.

"What is it?" Ash asked after seeing her altered semblance.

"Nothing," she too-quickly answered. One glance at him told her he wasn't backing off until she told him, so she did. "Why did you stop? I mean… don't you… don't you want it? Don't you want… me?"

It was Ash's turn to get redder. Did he want her? He took a look at the beauty in front of him and his pulse exaggeratedly raced. Arceus, he did. A lot. How could anyone be a gentleman around her? Especially when she was looking like that, with so much skin exposed - why, why on earth so much skin exposed? - and when her flaming hair was completely falling down from her previous hairdo, giving her that wild and natural look; and when her eyes had that sparkle of desire on them, and when she was kissing him like that. But it was not the time or place for such thing. And he knew she would agree if they had done it, because later, when he took off in another adventure, she would start doubting everything again, and she would feel bitter towards it.

"Gosh, Mist…" he groaned at last. "Do you need to ask?"

Misty looked at him directly in the eye, and she saw it. He did, he wanted it. That look would kill her someday. She blushed some more. "Then why did you stop?" she insisted, now facing her left.

"Well… What if we had done it?" Ash uttered, looking up the sky. Misty's eyes followed his as she turned her head up to see what he was staring at. "I mean, and then what? When I'm off into another adventure… or I need to stay away due to the League's business… Then what would you think of me?" He let the question in the air, not removing his eyes from the sky as hers did, but fixing them into a very distant star above. "You'd think I'm a liar, trying to take advantage of you."

He heard her hum something and finally tore his eyes from the dazzling night above their heads to observe her face. Misty looked thoughtful - she wore the typicall small frown of concentration and the vacant eyes of someone whose mind was elsewhere. Ash searched for her hand and let his fingers entwine it in his. Surprinsingly, the redhead did not protest, and neither did she remove her hand. If that was not surprising enough, she also laid her forehead on his shoulder, closing her eyes in the process.

"It's enough," she murmured and Ash froze. Did that mean that…?

And that's it.

Reviews are greatly appreciated, even if it's just a small word. They really make my day! :)

Be happy!

C'sMelody